The Informant
by BuriedBeneath
Summary: She is a Dalish elf standing in the heart of Val Royeaux… and she wants nothing more than to leave. It has taken less than an hour for her cheerful curiosity and enthusiasm to degrade into exasperation, which grows only worse when she is stopped by a woman claiming to have useful information for the Inquisition.
1. New Companion: The Informant

**"New Companion: The Informant"**

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><p>She is a Dalish elf standing in the heart of Val Royeaux… and she wants nothing more than to <em>leave<em>. It has taken less than an hour for her cheerful curiosity and enthusiasm to degrade into exasperation, which grows only worse when she is stopped by a woman claiming to have useful information for the Inquisition.

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><p>The departure of Lord Seeker Lucius and Val Royeaux's templars was a shock to everyone, and the collective gasp of surprise that settled over the crowd gathered in the courtyard was like a rush of heavy rain. Elleri Lavellan's exasperated comb of her fingers through her deep red hair was a clear sign of the fact that she was <em>so far beyond done<em> with this place. Not to mention the fact that she'd effectively dodged an arrow when the city had been calling for her arrest. Frankly, she was annoyed. She hadn't _asked_ to be regarded as the envoy for some goddess she didn't believe in, after all. She hadn't _asked_ for there to be a giant hole in the sky, and she hadn't _asked_ for the only method of closing said hole to be branded onto her Creators-damned hand.

She never thought she'd find herself wondering if she would be happier back at her clan, now that she was finally exploring the faraway lands she'd always dreamed of visiting. She was a Dalish elf standing in the middle of Val Royeaux. She had seen amazing things, met incredible people, experienced things she never would have, had she not gone to the Conclave. But after everything that had happened since her departure, she suddenly felt a deep-set longing for the familiarity of her clan. Elleri was a hunter. Her life was simple. The conflicts she faced on a regular basis had been the simple, friendly competition between herself and the other hunters to secure the best game, or the occasional run-in with some lost human who had strayed too close to her clan's territory.

But for now, she mused as she watched Lucius and the Templars disappear beyond the city walls, she'd settle for the Orlesians not thinking of her as a murderer.

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Varric said as he moved up beside her from the rear of the dispersing crowd.

Cassandra shook her head in confusion, "Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?"

Elleri turned to her, "Do you know him very well?"

"He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert's death." She explained, "He was always a decent man, never given to ambition or grandstanding. This is very bizarre."

"Do you think he can be reasoned with?"

"I hope so." Cassandra replied, "If not him, there are surely others in the Order who don't feel as he does."

"I suppose that's something. I mean, maybe I'm not as familiar with human customs as I thought," Elleri said with a sigh, "but the last I checked, the Templars were an army. Granted, a mage-hunting army, but still. Isn't it an army's job to protect? If a major city like Val Royeaux is 'unworthy of their protection', what is?"

"A good question." Solas chimed in, "One that is unlikely to be answered by simply standing here."

"Right." Cassandra said, "We should return to Haven and inform the others of what happened here."

Elleri groaned, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration as they started on their way, "Has the whole world gone crazy but us?"

"The question I've asked myself endlessly since all this happened." The woman who spoke stepped forward from where she had been leaning against a nearby archway, eyeing them all curiously. Long, dark brown curls spilled over her left shoulder, and she wore no mask, but a pair of spectacles framed inquisitive grey-blue eyes beset by a smattering of freckles spread across her cheeks and nose. Dressed as modestly as she was in just a simple sky blue tunic with soft dark leggings and leather riding boots that climbed up over her knees, she looked out of place among the extravagance of Val Royeaux, but given her timely appearance, it was clear she had been waiting for their approach. Lifting her shoulders in a shrug, she continued: "But, with the Divine dead and that giant-ass hole in the sky, I can't say I'm surprised people aren't thinking clearly."

Elleri stepped forward, an eyebrow cocked upwards in curiosity, "Can we help you?"

"Yes, actually." The young woman responded, "I was hoping I'd get to speak with you before you left. I have some information that might prove interesting for your Inquisition."

The elf's eyes narrowed, "I'm listening."

The woman looked around suspiciously, as if watching for spies, "Not here. Follow me."

Lavellan looked at her companions for their opinions, and was met with either shrugs or blank stares, so she sighed and set to following the human woman. She led them out of the square to a residential area away from the extravagant mansions that marked the nobility district. Stopping in front of a door to a small home with a modest flower garden, she withdrew a key and opened the door, gesturing for them to enter before her.

Inside, the home was simple. A large room served as the kitchen and living area, with a small table set near the hearth and stairs presumably leading down to a larder. A decorative screen separated the kitchen from the living area, where two forest green arm chairs with darkwood accents sat angled towards each other before a large fireplace that was clearly meant to be the focal point of the home. Between the chairs was a small end table with a tea tray on it. Against one wall was a couch that matched the armchairs set beneath a large window with yellow curtains, and a wooden desk the same color as that of the other furniture sat opposite of it in the corner near a set of stairs that supposedly lead up to the owner's bedrooms. Various small statues and wooden carvings decorated the mantle, giving the home a welcoming, lived-in quality and there was a beautiful bow (sylvanwood, if Elleri had to guess) carved with intricate markings mounted on the wall above the mantle. The house was tidy, save for the books. Along every inch of exposed wall there was a shelf filled to the brim with books. On the desk, there was a smattering of papers, a collection of inkwells, and a stack of books balanced precariously on the corner, while other stacks of books and papers could be found on every flat surface not previously occupied by the decor.

"Please, have a seat." Their impromptu host instructed, and because she was endlessly curious about what this woman had to tell them that was so secretive, she sat in one of the armchairs, eyeing the woman warily.

"My name is Tillie Parrish." She said as the rest of Elleri's companions-save Cassandra, who looked uneasy in the unfamiliar surroundings-sat. "Officially, I'm a fletcher here in Val Royeaux, and an aspiring author on the side. _Un_officially, I have... connections that grant me access to some very... sensitive information."

Elleri felt herself smirk for a moment and she made eye contact with Varric, who was sat on the couch opposite her and he returned her look with a grin of his own, "We already have one of those."

Tillie held up her hands before her, "Oh, I have no interest in joining you. But it's not hard to see the Inquisition are the only ones actually trying to _do_ something about the giant hole in the sky, so I have been cleared to provide you some information that may prove useful to you in your attempts to do so... depending on what you choose to do with it, of course."

"What's the catch?" Cassandra asked, her head tilting to the side as her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well, my sources aren't exactly... legitimate. I mean, they're trustworthy, but they're not... _legitimate_." She shrugged, "But something tells me that won't matter much to you as long as the _information's_ legitimate. Which it is."

"So you're a spy." Varric surmised.

"Not exactly." Tillie explained after a moment of hesitation, "It'd be more accurate to call me an informant. My clients send me... archers who are interested in my work, and they may or may not choose to leave me information they've... _stumbled across_, and I in turn give that information to any... interested parties that subsequently enter my shop."

Elleri shook her head. Despite her using shadows and stealth as her ally in battle and during a hunt, all of this espionage business was one thing about humans-and their Inquisition as a whole-that simply made her confused. She had infiltrated the Conclave passing as a servant, but that had simply required her to slip into the background and be inconspicuous, and to simply _not_ tell anyone she was syping on the Conclave for the Dalish. Stealth and blending in was her specialty, made easier by the fact that she was an elf; most of the humans paid her no mind, despite the markings on her face. Beyond that, however, her understanding of the how bards like Leliana conducted their business -the court intrigue, the assassinations, the crumbling of an entire noble family with but a few simple words- was quite basic. "How exactly do you make money doing this? Couldn't it be traced back to you by anyone with the drive and the skill to do so?"

"Honest business. I don't make a living by passing on the information; I make my living as a fletcher, and I don't look at the information unless specifically instructed to do so. That's why they send me archers -so the legitimacy of my business is never questioned. I do still serve the public, but any people who come in who are on my clients' payroll have access to the information. I act as the intermediary so my benefactors never meet face-to-face in order to maintain their cover. I deal with enough customers throughout the day that I don't remember what anyone looks like, and I don't try. The clients' people come in, they mention something specific to me and I give them the information." She rolled her eyes, "It's all _very secretive_."

Varric spoke again: "You basically function as a dead drop."

"Yes. But it's more secure to have a living person guarding very sensitive information rather than leaving it in a hidden box any lucky soul could stumble across-as long as the person is trustworthy. They get the information and to keep their cover; I get the business, a good social standing within the community, and plausible deniability."

"An interesting arrangement." Varric said, leaning back in his seat, "I'm surprised it's held up so long."

She shrugged, "I can't promise it would work for everyone -the only reason the arrangement even happened is because of my strong connections. I basically wanted out, and they were reluctant to let me go, so we made a compromise. I already had their trust, and I left on good terms."

"Will you still have it after telling us all this?" Elleri asked.

Tillie shook her head, "I've told you nothing I haven't already been cleared to tell you."

"Your benefactors are oddly trusting of the Inquisition."

"Like I said, the Inquisition are the only ones actually doing anything about the Breach. My clients know this, and they want to help before they become overrun by demons. Plus, it doesn't hurt to have the Inquisition in their favour."

Elleri hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly before she continued, fully prepared to take any information she received from this woman with a grain of salt. "I suppose that's fair enough." She leaned back against the chair and crossed her arms, "What is this information you have for us?"

"My clients out of Ferelden say things are brewing in Redcliffe. There have been sightings of Tevinters in the area, which can mean nothing good for the mages there. The town and the Rebellion has been falling apart since the Conclave failed and the Divine was killed, so it's a good opportunity for Tevinter to make a grab at power."

"If Tevinter gains control of the Rebellion," Cassandra said, "Ferelden would be thrown into chaos."

Varric nodded, "Fereldans are fiesty. They don't take chaos laying down, if the last ten years have been any indication. The people might make an Exalted March of their own, with or without the Divine."

"_Fenedhis_, we cannot be worrying about a war in Ferelden _and_ the Breach." Elleri ran her hand through her hair, "One bloody step at a time."

"If we help the mages in Redcliffe, they may very well assist us in closing the Breach." Solas, who had been listening intently from his position on the couch opposite her, chimed in.

"Would that even work?" Elleri asked, shifting her gaze to him over Tillie's shoulder.

"As we've seen by your proficiency in closing the rifts, your mark already has the ability to close the Breach; it is just lacking the power." He explained, "If we can get enough mages behind you to pour energy from the Fade into the mark, it should be enough to seal the Breach."

"Regardless of what you ultimately decide, I would suggest making the trip to Redcliffe to investigate, at least." Tillie said, "If nothing else, you'll get insight to what is happening there, but I personally believe the mages could help you if you give them the chance."

Elleri sighed, "Right. In any case, we need to return to Haven. The others need to know what happened here." She rose to her feet, and was swiftly joined by her companions.

Tillie stood as well and reached out a hand to her, "Safe travels, Inquisition. I wish you well."

"_Ma serannas_, Tillie. Thank you." She stopped for a moment, before adding, "Just so you know, our spymaster may be in contact."

"I'll provide whatever information I can."

Elleri released her hand, looking down at Varric as he approached from her right.

"Why don't you join us?" He asked.

"Varric!" Cassandra exclaimed.

Elleri, surprised as she was, elected to remain silent and watch this play out as Tillie looked at the dwarf.

"Me? Join the Inquisition?" The human woman raised her brow in surprise, "You're joking right? I'm a wannabe writer who makes her living through fletching and trading secrets. What do I have to offer other than arrows and information?"

"Please. I know a trained archer when I see one. You said you were one of these spies until you wanted out, and given your location and what you've told us, I'm assuming you were a bard, which means you must have at least some battle experience." The dwarf replied, nodding to the bow mounted above the mantle, "A small-time fletcher doesn't have a bow like _that_ hanging over her mantle unless she knows how to use it, and considering the bards were reluctant to let you go, we can assume you knew how to use it well."

The woman just stared down at him for a moment, her eyes hard and unmoving until she finally shook her head. To her credit, she didn't attempt to deny any of his observations. "So what if I do? I already told you I have no interest in joining the Inquisition."

"But you _do_ want to help."

"By providing information! I have responsibilities here!" Tillie protested, "I've told you what I do here, what my obligations are. I can't just leave! Not to mention the fact that I left the bards for a reason. I thought I wanted the adventure, but while I did enjoy traveling, what I really wanted was a quiet life and the freedom to travel without having to constantly look over my shoulder. I _like_ being a fletcher. It's tedious, and quite often more of a pain in the ass than it's worth, but I enjoy the time I get to myself. And my arrangement with the bards has given me just enough of a thrill to keep me from getting bored."

"And precious little of anything else, I'd wager."

"Just _what_ are getting at, dwarf?"

"Oh nothing," Varric shrugged, "I'm just saying; you're an aspiring author, right? Joining the Inquisition seems like it would open up lots of doors, and I can say from experience that there's no shortage of inspiration. And you and I both know it would be easy enough for your clients to use dead drops and carrier birds, or even to send another agent to stand in for you in your absence."

Tillie stepped closer, her eyes narrowing, "Are you saying I'm useless?"

The dwarf held up his hands in supplication, "Of course not! I wouldn't have suggested you join us otherwise. I'm just saying you're not being used to your full potential."

"I've been used to my full potential." Tillie growled, moving even closer, her fists clenching in anger, "I thought I made it clear that I hated it, and wanted something simpler."

"If you ask me, I don't think you wanted simpler; I think you wanted _different_."

"I _didn't_ ask you."

He continued as if he hadn't heard her, "I think you joined the bards in search of inspiration, but didn't find it. So you became a fletcher who traded secrets thinking the time to yourself would help you find what was missing from your writing. But judging by the papers thrown all over the place here, you still haven't found it. I think the Inquisition could be what you've been looking for."

"Do _not_ make assumptions about me, dwarf. You don't know me."

"I know what it's like to be a writer with no inspiration." He explained, "To have all the time in the world to devote to writing, but no material no matter how hard you try. I've been there. It's pretty damn frustrating. But it's been a long time since I've had that problem. You know why? Because I've gone out and _done shit_. There are stories out there if you can find them. For almost a decade, I fought at the Champion of Kirkwall's side. I've seen her make light of the most serious situations; heard her joke about boneless women flopping around the streets of Kirkwall. I watched her face down the Qunari Arishok, and I watched him nearly kill her. I watched her fall in love with a slave, then get her heart broken before he finally managed to pick up the pieces and helped her put it back together. I watched her take down a dragon by wrapping her legs around its neck and stabbing her daggers into its eyes." Varric shook his head, chuckling lightly, "I found inspiration when I was traveling with Hawke, because _you just can't make that shit up_."

She could only stare at him, her experience as a spy evident in the way an expressionless mask suddenly drew over her face, drowning out her emotions into something numb.

"Look, all I'm saying is this experience might give you the inspiration you need to write the story that finally gets published." Varric's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "But if you're adamant that you don't want to join us, we can't really force you. Right, Lavellan?"

All eyes suddenly turned to Elleri, and she met them all evenly, stopping briefly on Varric before finally coming to rest on Tillie as she mirrored Varric's earlier shrug, "He's right. We won't force you to join. But, if you take some time to think about it and decide to join us, I'd have no issue with it. What about everyone else?"

Solas' expression froze on Elleri momentarily as she met eyes with him, as if he was taking a moment to mull it over. He was staring through her, certainly, as he thought, but she couldn't stop the chill the intensity of his gaze sent rushing over her, and she pushed it from her mind. In the end, his inherent curiosity caused him to break the spell and give her a simple nod of his head, signifying his agreement.

Cassandra, seeing that she was outnumbered, uttered a single disgusted noise before her face twisted into a sneer. Her disagreement was evident, but that was no surprise.

Elleri nodded once, bringing the conversation to a close, "Right then. The choice is yours, Tillie, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us."

And with that, the Inquisition turned and made their way out of the woman's home, Varric taking his time as he brought up the rear, but he did not look back until her voice stopped them.

"Wait!" She stepped up to meet them as the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she forced an exasperated sigh out through her nose, "Maker's breath, I can't believe I'm saying this. Let me make contact with my benefactors so they can make other arrangements." The woman continued, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead, "Then, I suppose I'll meet you all at Haven."

Although Elleri couldn't see it, she could practically _feel _Varric's self-satisfied grin.

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><p><strong>an:** This all started with a post started up by Tumblr user "vhenan" in which players imagined themselves as companion characters for the Inquisitor. I filled it out, and the idea just didn't leave me alone. Make no mistake, however; these are fragments from the _Inquisitor's_ story. I'm just tagging along for the fun… and to be best friends with Varric.

If you're interested in a retelling of Inquisition from the perspective of this Inquisitor without the AU element presented by Tillie, you can check out my other new story, _Unrelenting Expectations_ (Story ID: 11140823) which will basically follow Elleri through the events of Inquisition and possibly beyond.

These will mainly be vignettes, though the first few are pretty sequential. Most will have to do with my exploration of how I picture myself as an Inquisition companion character, and the various ways in which the Inquisitor would react to me, and vice versa. I have no idea how long it will end up being. I have 3 chapters done, and I'm hoping it won't be any more than 10-12. But my muses have a tendency to run away with me, so we shall see what happens.

Also, In case anyone is interested, you can follow my blog on Tumblr under the username "irabelaslethallin". There is also a link to it on my author profile, as well as my Twitter.


	2. First Impressions

**"First Impressions"**

It was a month before Tillie Parrish finally arrived at Haven. Coincidentally, the inner circle had just returned from Redcliffe mere days beforehand, as per her recommendation, and their investigation had gained them the assistance of the mages, a new companion, and insight into the Venatori. But Elleri didn't think she'd ever truly get over the nightmares caused by the things she'd seen in the twisted future she and Dorian had been thrown into.

Watching the others sacrifice themselves for her, in a last-ditch attempt to prevent the future that awaited them if she and Dorian didn't escape was a series of images burned into her memory, and she would not—_could not_—let herself forget it. She could do nothing to help these people she had only recently begun to think of as friends.

Cassandra had been just starting to warm up to her, and not see her as the killer everyone in the Chantry believed her to be. The strong, determined woman whom Elleri herself admired for her confidence and willingness to do what must be done, even if that included suspecting her as a murderer when they first met. But what else was she to think? The Conclave was destroyed, the Temple of Sacred Ashes a smouldering hole in the ground, and a Dalish elf had just emerged from a rift in the fade, the only survivor of it all. Though Elleri had been indignant at first, she later understood Cassandra's frustration, and that she just wanted answers, and Elleri could not hold that against her.

Then, the bloodied body of Solas being dragged in through the doors and thrown unceremoniously on the floor before her, taunting her, his eyes locked open and void of life, and not a _damn thing_ she was able to do about it was a sight that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Solas, who had saved her life before she had even met him, and even more since with a well-timed barrier when she needed it most. A man who stayed with the Inquisition out of a desire to help, despite the threat to his life as an apostate. The one person who humoured her prodding curiosity and did his best to answer all of her questions, frequent as they were—and _enjoyed_ it. She was inquisitive to the point where some would even call her a busybody, but Solas seemed to _appreciate_ that about her, and that was rare. He understood that she was only trying to satisfy her own curiosity when she asked the occasionally prodding questions that some may refuse to answer out of a fear that she would spread it around. But that wasn't who Elleri was, and when she made that clear to him, he was much more forthcoming. He still had secrets; that much was clear. But she would not ask him for more than he was willing to give. People were allowed to have secrets, as long as they did not threaten the wellbeing of anyone else, and being trusted with that secret was a heavy responsibility that Elleri took very seriously. There was something else there, too, though. She had not allowed herself to think too hard about it, but seeing him dead on the floor of Redcliffe Castle, a Venatori sword protruding from his gut, his tunic soaked through with his blood, had sent a shock of grief through her that was different than the one she had felt for the others. It was like her heart had stopped altogether before being jump-started back to life and she remembered all-too-well the burning sensation in the back of her eyes as they locked onto his. _ I'm sorry I wasn't here, Solas. I'm so sorry._

Inquisition scouts alerted the advisors of Tillie's approach and, shaking the memories from her mind, Elleri moved to greet her at the village gates, but found Varric already there, waiting for her. Ignoring her initial curiosity, she hung back and allowed their meeting to occur uninterrupted, and simply watched, her back leaning up against the door to her cabin. The bow that had been mounted above the mantle in Tillie's house was slung over her shoulder and a quiver made from dark leather was hanging from the belt at her waist. She was clad in a heavy cloak and thick breeches with tall boots stretching over her knees similar to the ones she'd worn in Val Royeaux, but these looked thicker. Warmer. Varric said something to her as she walked through the gates, but she just responded with a heavy roll of her eyes before he gestured for her to walk with him with that charming grin he was so known for.

"Welcome, Tillie." She said as they passed by the area in front of her cabin, giving her a gracious bow of her head and a look that said they would speak later. Tillie simply smiled and returned it and the two continued on their way.

When Varric said something that caused the woman to groan and exclaim, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this!" Elleri had to fight back a grin. Varric had a knack for talking people into things, and she could already see the friendship brewing between them.

She found Tillie again later, in the Chantry, checking out a selection of books from one of the bookshelves. She had removed one and had it turned over in her hands, reading the excerpt on the back cover. When she saw Elleri approach from the side, she slid the book back into place on the shelf before turning to face her fully.

"I assume Varric gave you the tour."

Tillie nodded, "Y'know, Haven is pretty small. There's so much going on, well, everywhere."

"Feeling suffocated?"

She let out a quiet breath of laughter, "My house in Val Royeaux was no mansion, but it was_ mine_. I guess I just miss having a place to go where there was no one around, to read, or write, or whatever. I'm not the most comfortable around crowds."

"There is an office downstairs, if you're interested." Elleri offered, "I assume it's supposed to belong to the prison warden, but the last prisoner we had was _me_, and we're sort of short-handed as it is. I don't think anyone would take issue with you staying down there. The office itself is kind of nice, if you can get past the dungeon that's literally right next to it."

"I'll look into it. Thanks." Tillie's mouth canted upwards in a smirk, "So I see you got the help of the mages."

"Yes, we did." Elleri suppressed a shudder, "Although, I'm not sure I'll ever really get past what happened there. If not for Dorian, I'd have been killed along with my friends in a desolate future that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life."

The human woman's brow creased in confusion, "Did you say 'future'?"

She nodded, "Luckily, we now know what The Elder One is planning so that we can prevent it before any of the things I saw ever happens."

"Time magic? I'm sorry, I just—I didn't even know that was possible."

She shrugged, "Let's just say it was... highly experimental."

"I see." Tillie's eyes narrowed, but Elleri changed the subject before she could speak further.

"When he was showing you around, did Varric make any introductions to the rest of our friends?"

"He started to, but then I think he noticed how tired I was." She explained, "So then he just brought me to Harritt so he could adjust my armour. It fits, but it's been a while since I last had to wear it, so it could use some slight adjustments."

"Good. Harritt will have you all set by the time we leave again. In the meantime, you might want to check out that office in the basement and get some time to yourself. I have a feeling Varric's going to drag us all out to the tavern this evening for some Diamondback in an attempt to coax you further into the inner circle."

"Oh _fantastic_. Because I'm _such_ a people-person."

"We're not as bad as you might think, I promise, and you can leave whenever you wish."

Tillie sighed and her shoulders lifted in a small shrug, "Then I guess I'll meet you there."

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><p>Later in the evening, they had slid two tables together in order to fit everyone who had been coaxed into attending by Varric. Even Solas had shown up, though he was characteristically quiet and adamantly refusing to be dealt into the game. Just when Elleri was starting to wonder if she'd show, Tillie walked through the doors and immediately, her eyes landed on the gathering of misfits seated at a table that practically reached across the whole tavern. There was a moment of hesitation in her movements until Elleri waved her over while she and Varric slid over on their bench so she could sit on the end—giving her an escape route if she needed one.<p>

"This is Tillie," Elleri said as the woman sat down, "we met her in Val Royeaux. She's the one who gave us the tip on what was happening in Redcliffe."

"So you're the one who led the Inquisition to Redcliffe." Dorian said from his position across from Elleri, "You have my thanks. Things surely would not have turned out as well as they did had the Inquisition not shown up."

"This is Dorian." Elleri explained, "He's the one who helped me sort out what happened in Redcliffe."

Tillie greeted the man with a nod.

"On the end over there is Sera." She gestured to the elf, who had her seat balanced precariously on its back legs, her feet mounted on the table. At the mention of her name, Sera simply raised an eyebrow at the woman from where she sat as Elleri continued, "We met her the same day we met you—just after we left your house, actually. She's an archer, too."

"Good, right?" Was all the young elf said.

"Sounds like a lot of things happened in Val Royeaux that day." Tillie said, letting out a small laugh.

"It took us forever to get back to Haven." Elleri replied with a scoff, "Next, we have Blackwall, you've met Solas already, and—"

"_Me_." The giant Qunari reached a hand across the table and the two clasped forearms—Bull being markedly more enthusiastic about it than she—as Tillie looked at him in surprise, "They call me The Iron Bull."

Her eyes wide, Tillie looked as if she was searching for words until she finally choked out, "A pleasure," as Bull released her hand.

Lavellan moved on as if nothing even happened, "And finally, you've met Cassandra."

The woman in question looked at Tillie with guarded eyes. Although the information she'd given them about Redcliffe was accurate, it was clear that the warrior was in no way ready to trust her. But that was not surprising; she was only just beginning to warm up to Elleri herself.

"And, as you know, this is the Herald of Andraste." Varric chimed in, and Elleri met his gaze with a scowl.

"Just Lavellan, please." She looked pointedly at Tillie, "I'm not the Herald of anything. I don't know who was behind me when I came through that rift, but I certainly doubt it was Andraste."

Varric shrugged, "Can't change public opinion—not _now_ anyway, after everything that's happened. Might as well run with it."

"I'm _Dalish_!" Elleri protested, "I don't even _believe_ in the Maker!"

"Try telling that to the people." He said, and she just dropped her head into her hands and groaned, but she could hear Tillie laughing softly from beside her.

"_Anyway_," Elleri grumbled, changing the subject and tossing glare Varric's way when she looked up before meeting Tillie's gaze again, "Vivienne isn't here tonight, but you've probably seen her milling about the chantry."

"She's the one who basically _breathes _ice." Bull added, "Like a dragon. A cold-ass dragon."

Tillie laughed again, and Elleri could almost see the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away. The way to loosen up this particular woman was through humour, it was clear. She had already experienced a hint of Tillie's sarcasm, and she knew it was just a matter of time before she was cracking off jokes like the rest of them, and the friendship already becoming evident in the interactions she shared with Varric couldn't hurt either.

_Yes,_ Elleri thought to herself with a grin, _she'll fit in nicely._


	3. Reservations

**"Reservations"**

Haven was buried in snow, and their enemy had a name. Corypheus. Elleri wished she would have seen it coming, but it came right on the heels of their supposed victory. They had not even stopped celebrating the closing of the Breach when the army was spotted in the mountains, marching for the village.

Elleri had not expected to survive the initial confrontation with Corypheus, but once she had, she was determined to make it to the others, trudging through snow up to her thighs as the cold burrowed deep into her bones. The calm, gentle snowflakes that had been falling in Haven before everything had gone _so wrong_ had since intensified to sharp pellets of ice that pelted and reddened her cheeks in powerful gusts of wind like tiny daggers. Reminding herself not to rub her frostbitten hands together in an attempt to warm them—holding them beneath her arms instead—she forced all of her focus to the forefront, pushing any thoughts of taking a break or giving up out of her mind altogether. She had _not_ survived a fight with Corypheus and his pet archdemon just to die in a _snowstorm_; that was just _insulting_. Against all the odds, she was still her clan's best tracker, and somehow, she managed to pull those skills out of her ass despite the cold hands of death clawing at the back of her neck. A village of evacuees rushing to escape hell was not difficult to track, even considering their footsteps had since been covered in snow; there were other ways of tracking one's quarry.

Fortunately, the others had stopped and made camp in a cave to wait out the snowstorm, and that was where she'd found them. Then the only thing she could clearly remember was being cradled against Cullen's chest as he carried her inside to deposit her onto a cot, and Solas' hands—impossibly warm—jolting her awake and checking her vital signs before slipping into the darkness of her apparent exhaustion, despite the others trying valiantly to rouse her.

She awoke the next day to arguing, after spending a restless night plagued by the memories of what she'd seen. It had not been a good night's sleep, and she was racked by pain for most of it, but it was a rest that she'd needed just the same. Now, heated words were being shared between Tillie and Varric, and she was prepared to snap at them for waking her when she so desperately wished to just rest, but the sight of Solas hovering beside her, loosely holding her left hand in his own stopped her. He was studying the mark, judging by the look of confusion that creased his brow. It was a moment before he realized she was awake, but when he did he immediately dropped her hand.

"Forgive me," he said, shaking his head, "it is just such a mystery."

"It's fine." She replied, attempting to sit up but stopping at the white hot pain flaring across her back (likely from the tumble into the mineshaft that had ironically saved her life) and settling for resting herself on her elbows and flexing her hands a few times, "Especially considering how frostbitten my hands felt yesterday. It's nice to feel my fingers again, let me tell you. I'm almost surprised I didn't lose any."

"Any longer out in that storm, and that very well may have been the case."

"Don't I know it."

"Lie back." Solas instructed, placing an insistent hand on her shoulder, "You had a few cracked ribs, and I healed them, along with your other injuries. But there is a rather impressive bruise on your back, and it will take a few days for your muscle strain to recover, so I would prefer you not overexert yourself."

She obeyed him, but couldn't resist teasing him a little, "Why, Solas, are you worried about me?"

"Concerned that you may undo my hard work, perhaps." He replied, his lips twitching, despite himself, "Besides, you are the only one who can close the rifts. If we lose you, we lose everything."

The two of them shared a look. Elleri wasn't exactly sure what expression passed between them, but her mirth was quickly replaced with severity. She had not expected him to meet her casual flirting with a hefty dose of _reality_—especially not when he'd been so receptive to her teasing in the days prior. But she was not surprised by it, just the same. For Solas' part, he looked pensive, melancholy, and she wondered what had happened in their conversation that had made his mood take such an unexpected turn. It was short-lived, however, because Tillie's voice was suddenly echoing loudly through the cavern.

"This is _not_ what I signed up for!"

Solas' brow lifted at the outburst, before turning to look at the two as the argument escalated. Elleri just covered her eyes with a forearm. _Elgar'nan, I just want to rest._

"You did join us for the inspiration, if I recall." Varric's voice. Quieter. Elleri had to focus a bit more in order to hear it, but he was by no means whispering. "For the adventure. If that wasn't an adventure, I don't know what is."

"_Adventure_! I didn't anticipate Haven being buried under a hundred feet of snow while Lavellan strolled off to a battle no one expected her to walk away from, just so we could escape by the skin of our teeth!"

"_Ma serannas_, Tillie. Your faith in my abilities is truly touching." Elleri muttered without uncovering her eyes, quietly enough that only Solas could hear, but her lip quirked upwards slightly when she heard a muffled breath of laughter that could only have been him. She was silently thrilled that she'd managed to coax some levity out of him after his brief departure into melancholy.

"I didn't anticipate some crazy darkspawn—magister—_thing_ showing up with some kind of grotesque red lyrium Templar! I didn't anticipate a _fucking archdemon_!" She shouted, uncaring of any listening ears in her anger, "That's not an adventure; that's a _death sentence_!"

"Look, Prickly—"

Elleri's brow lifted at that, "Huh. He's already given her a nickname."

"Prickly." Solas said, testing it out himself, "Seems oddly fitting."

"How come I don't have a nickname yet?" Elleri grumbled, their voices finally beginning to grate on her nerves. She was still exhausted and in a great deal of pain, and she was fairly certain her head was _not_ throbbing before, but it certainly was now.

"All things in good time, I'm certain." He replied, but he sensed the lack of venom in her voice, and she did move her arm then, to see the way his lips lifted into a smirk as she returned it with her own.

"—some writers can come up with great stories on their own, but writers like you and me? We get our best ideas when we go out and _do shit_." Varric was saying, "You're going to be bored, if you leave. And lacking the inspiration you need to finally get yourself published."

"Fine!" Tillie looked down at him, glaring murderously, "Then as soon as we get out of here, I will go back to my _boring, uninspirational_ house in Val Royeaux, to do my _boring, uninspirational_ job, and live my _boring, unspirational_ life. But at least I'll damn well still be alive at the end of all this!"

"Don't tell me you're losing faith in the Inquisition." Varric prodded, "Wasn't it you who said the Inquisition were the only ones actually doing anything about the Breach?"

"I did, and you are." Tillie said, "And the Inquisition can go right ahead and do things about the Breach—_without me_!"

"_By the Dread Wolf_, will you both just shut up?!" Elleri shouted, her patience at an end, "Tillie, if you're going to leave, just leave, and Varric, let her go! If you can't do that, then take this argument somewhere else, because I, and the other injured parties, would kindly like to get some rest, if you please."

Silence fell, and the dwarf and human looked at each other—one with a raised eyebrow, the other with a glare—before walking away, as Elleri made herself as comfortable as she could without hurting herself.

"I will take my leave as well." Solas said, starting to move, "You need your rest."

"You don't have to go." She blurted before she could stop herself.

He looked down at her hand, which was on his forearm without her mind ever having any knowledge of exactly how it got there, and she pulled it away as if she'd been burned.

"I—I mean—if you have other things to do, by all means! I just…" Corypheus' face flashed into her mind's eye, the roar of his dragon echoing in her ears as her back slammed into the trebuchet, the memory of pain blasting through her body as she cried out in agony with no one to hear her but the enemy, "I don't want to be alone, and I ... enjoy your company."

He was silent for a moment, and she could see by the way the muscles in his jaw and temple flexed that he was thinking very hard about this for some reason, and Lavellan shook her head, internally berating herself. He obviously had more important things to do than humour her foolish need for company. She wasn't even _alone_, not really. There were other injured refugees on the cots around her, in various states of wakefulness—especially given the argument they'd recently been privy to. She was about to tell him to nevermind her, to go do whatever it was that was demanding his attention when he relaxed, met her eyes, and spoke again: "_Ma nuvenin_. I will stay for a time." He said, reaching out a hand expectantly, "On the condition of you allowing me to study the mark."

"Of course." She gave him a grateful smile, and let him take her hand, "_Ma serannas_."

His hands were warm, and his fingers gently prodded at the mark, siphoning a small amount of magic into it that sent a slight tingling sensation up her forearm and her arm reflexively tensed.

Solas felt the reaction and stopped, looking up at her, "Did I hurt you?"

"Not at all." She shook her head, "I mean, it always hurts—at least a little—but that just felt... strange."

"My apologies; I should have warned you. I was trying to see how it would react with my own rift magic. I'm curious to learn whether the power within your mark comes directly from the Fade, or from the rifts themselves; perhaps the imbalance of the energy of the veil where it is thinnest and the rifts appear."

"Is there a difference?"

"I am not entirely certain myself." He said, "It is the first I've been able to study the mark while you are conscious, however, so your feedback is helpful."

Elleri laughed softly, "I'm no mage, Solas. I don't know how much help I'd be."

"Just tell me what you feel."

Again she felt the sensation of his magic being fed into the mark, and again she felt her arm tense instinctively.

"It feels... strange." She said again, her confusion evident as she searched for the right words, "Almost as if I'm being pulled towards you—not physically, I mean, but—by my spirit, I suppose? The pain eases slightly, and it's almost like the mark wants to... follow you when you pull away from it."

"I see." He said, and his expression seemed almost despondent for a moment before was gone as quickly as it had appeared, "That is interesting indeed."

"Does that make sense at all to you?"

"No." He said, before placing her hand down on the cot beside her and letting it go, "I'm afraid the mark remains a mystery to me and everyone else, save perhaps for Corypheus. It is, however, fascinating."

Tillie's annoyed voice reached them from outside the cavern where she and Varric had retreated, pulling their attention to where she could be seen pacing in and out of view. Fortunately, the argument was far enough away to be easily ignored this time around, and Elleri could only laugh quietly to herself.

"Not the most elegant way to be reminded of home," she said, her head shaking slightly, "but I'll take it."

"Your clan argued frequently?" Solas asked.

"The hunters did, at times." Elleri explained, "Usually friendly competition over who brought back the best game, but sometimes more severe arguments would crop up when some lost human wandered too close to our camp."

"I know some clans would become violent in the case of such an intrusion." He said, "How did your clan normally react when a human stumbled too close?"

"Actually, my clan was on decent terms with the human settlements around us. Depending on where we were settled at the time, violent incidents with humans were very rare—we even traded with some settlements regularly. In the case of some poor lost human getting too close, I was usually the one elected to escort them back out of our territory."

"I can see why they would choose you." He said, "Your disposition is friendly, approachable. Non-threatening unless provoked."

"Yes, well, I was also the only one who actually _enjoyed_ babysitting stray humans." She added, suppressing a laugh, "I learned many interesting stories that way."

"How so?"

"Just… _talking_ to them. They can be surprisingly forthcoming when offered an air of mutual respect. I'd typically just start by asking how they had ended up in Dalish territory to begin with, or ask about human customs in general to establish a rapport with them. If they were receptive, then I could learn a lot from them."

"And those who were not deserving of said respect?"

"Swiftly put in their place—usually with a few sharp words." She shrugged, "Or, in the worst cases, forcibly nudging them out of elven territory at the ends of my daggers with threats of more serious consequences should they return."

He smiled wanly for a moment, shaking his head slightly before returning his gaze to her again, "Your experience with humans must have been more extensive than many of your clansmen, then, yes?"

She nodded, "It's why I was sent to the Conclave. Ideally, a clan's First would be sent on such a mission, but the First of my clan is just a teenager, nowhere near ready to undertake such a mission alone."

"How did you react to the mission?"

"I was so excited." Elleri shook her head, an unrestrained grin taking hold of her mouth, "I'd always had a bad case of wanderlust. I was a hunter, so I was able to wander the surrounding forests, but my days always began and ended with the clan. At twenty-seven years old, I'd never really experienced life outside of it. I wanted to see the world and all it had to offer. I wanted to learn about everything, every_one_, and I couldn't do that from within the confines of my clan. So, when my Keeper offered me this mission, I jumped at the chance."

They fell silent, her smile fading as the circumstances of the last few days sunk in and she remembered everything they had lost in just a few short hours—and indeed, since this whole journey even _started_. The Conclave—failed; The Temple of Sacred Ashes—destroyed; The sky—ripped asunder by the Breach; Haven—buried. She looked at the entrance to the cave, where Tillie could still be seen pacing a worn stripe into the snow outside, anger radiating off the woman in waves, and let out a sigh.

"You know, I wouldn't hold it against you if you decided to leave as well." Her brow furrowed as she looked back up at the other elf, meeting his eyes. "There is a lot at stake for you, being here as an apostate."

"Technically, all mages are now apostates." He met her concerned frown with a slight smirk, "And if I should leave, who would be here to heal you the next time you crawl back from a battle no one expects you to survive?"

She laughed again, "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here, _lethallin_." The endearment slipped out without thought, but Elleri meant it, regardless of how he would react. _Bloodkin_. He may not have been Dalish, but he was as much an elf as she, and seemed to know as much or even more about Elvhen history than even Keeper Istmathoriel—not that Elleri had any real idea of the depths of the Keeper's knowledge; that was reserved for the First. Solas' knowledge and experience was certainly worthy of respect, however, and regardless of what her clan may have thought of him, she considered him one of her own. Still, she watched his face as he regarded her, looking for any hint of disapproval, but found none.

"I am glad you survived the battle." He said.

"Because of the Breach?" She asked, a teasing tone to her voice, pointedly lifting her marked hand.

"Because I have precious few friends left—both in and out of the Fade. I would hate to lose another," his gaze softening slightly as he met her eyes, "_lethallin_."


End file.
